


The Morning After

by uniquepov



Series: Harry Potter and the Drabbling Ficlets [46]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-10
Updated: 2011-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uniquepov/pseuds/uniquepov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Recipient:</b> <span class="ljuser ljuser-name_ariannagray"></span><a href="http://ariannagray.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://ariannagray.livejournal.com/"><b>ariannagray</b></a><br/><b>Prompt:</b> The morning after celebrating Beltaine and the realisation, that the last drink might have been one too many.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I solemnly swear that I am up to no good; however, I promise to return everyone, good as new, when I'm done playing with them. I own nothing that you recognize, and I do not profit from any of it.  
> 

Draco woke slowly, cocooned in warmth. He snuggled deeper into the blankets, sighing contentedly. His eyes drifted closed, only to pop open in surprise as a muscled arm curled around his waist and pulled him backward against what felt like an equally muscled chest. A smile curved his lips as he began to recall the activities of the night before. He'd gone to a Beltaine celebration and flirted outrageously with the masqued Green Man of the bonfire. The man had worn a stag's head and antlers as a masque, verdant eyes shining brightly, the same rich hue as the only other scrap of clothing he'd worn, a loincloth which left very little to the imagination. A few impassioned kisses in the firelight, accompanied by copious amounts of mead, and Draco had very happily Apparated them both back to his Highland cottage for more... entertaining activities.

Draco smiled as he wriggled teasingly within the circle of those muscled arms, and was rewarded by a deep, throaty chuckle.

"Good morning," a disturbingly familiar voice murmured in his ear.

Draco's breath hitched and he scrabbled frantically out of the bed. He snatched a duvet from the bed and wrapped it around his waist as he stared, wide-eyed, at the tousled black head poking out of the nest of blankets.

"Potter?" he squeaked.

Harry rolled onto his back and looked up at him with a lazy smirk. "Back to Potter, are we? Pity." His smirk widened as he stretched languidly, deliberately letting the sheets fall away from him as he watched Draco gape openmouthed. "It was so much more fun last night, when you were calling me ‘My Lord’..."

Draco's mouth worked silently as his mind processed that. "You... _you_ were the Green Man? The Horned Lord?"

Harry's green eyes twinkled up at him as he waved a hand toward the wardrobe, where the antlered masque of the night before hung ostentatiously from one corner of the mirrored door.

"Oh," was Draco's altogether inadequate reply. Then, "Bugger," as he sank into an armchair by the window.

Harry laughed. "I'm not quite ready to go again," he teased. "But if you give me some breakfast..."

Draco buried his head in his hands. "That's the last time I go A-Maying," he groaned.

Harry's smile was gentle as he patted the bed beside him. "Come back to bed, Draco," he wheedled. "I'll make it all better."

"How, exactly, will you do that?" Draco asked, without lifting his head from his hands.

"I could Obliviate you," Harry deadpanned.

Draco's head shot up, and Harry chuckled. "Or... we could just cuddle for a while."

"Malfoys do _not_ cuddle," he retorted archly.

"All evidence to the contrary," was Harry's smug reply.

"Potter, please..."

"Begging... I like begging..."

" _Potter_!"

Harry sighed. "All right, all right..." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up, yawning and stretching as he did. "I'll go."

Draco watched the other man from behind his hands as Harry Transfigured the loincloth from the night before into a set of rich emerald robes. Draco swallowed thickly as he watched the other man’s muscles ripple enticingly as Harry stretched his arms over his head to don the new garments.

"Potter?"

"Hmm?" Harry's voice was muffled by the robes, still bunched over his head.

"How d'you like your eggs?"

Harry's grin, as his head poked out of the top of his robes, was brighter than the May sunshine.


End file.
